Broken
by cowbell2011
Summary: Harry and Ruth are married, but all is not well...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: OK so, I've experimented with yet another style of writing. This doesn't start off very happy, but as usual I'll try to make it nice in the end (though you never know!). I'd really appreciate a review to let me know if you liked/hated it and would like me to continue it. This is set season 10 time, but without the whole Lucas/Albany/inquiry business from the end of season 9.**

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><p><strong>Harry<strong>

I come through the pods and am greeted by the last thing I expected. Applause. I mean, not that I don't deserve it (even if I do say so myself), it's just that I hadn't expected news to travel so fast. But then again, I suppose if there's one man in the world you can rely upon to cause a scene it is William Towers. I never even officially applied for the DG job, he just sort of assumed I would want it.

'There's no other man I'd rather have than you Harry. The other applicants are blithering idiots.' He'd said.

I'd refrained from pointing out that technically I wasn't even an applicant myself, and that there were two rather qualified and respectable women who would quite like the job, but he was not to be moved, and thus I find myself in this current position. He's clearly rang ahead and told Erin that I've accepted the position (which I haven't) as she's holding a bottle of champagne whilst Dimitri, Calum and Tariq are clapping as if their lives depended on it. The only person not joining in with the festivities is the one person I had hoped would be the first to greet me when I arrived. My wife, Ruth Pearce. As Calum drones on about something to do with my new office I scan the grid and see her sitting quietly at her desk with a troubled expression on her face.

This is nothing new these days. We've been married just over a year now but for the last three months things haven't been going well. I proposed a few weeks after Ros' funeral and to my delight at the time she accepted. I knew she still harboured some ill feeling towards me from George's death and the circumstances surrounding her return from Cyprus but I felt that our mutual respect for one another and our love would be enough to see us through. I was correct for a while, but recently, we don't seem to connect anymore and I just don't know what to do about it.

Nobody at work knows, of course. We both agreed we would keep our troubles separate from them. So when we are on the grid we are happily married, but once we arrive home, it's back to barely talking. I can't remember the last time she told me she loves me, nor I her, and that saddens me more than I can explain.

I dreamed of this life, of being married to Ruth and maybe one day starting a family. But the reality has not lived up to the expectation and somehow I must remedy that. I'm brought out of my inner musings when it becomes clear the three young spooks are stood expectantly for some kind of answer from me.

'I'm sorry, what?'

Dimitri and Calum grin like Cheshire cats. I've been caught out, it seems.

'Go on, you're obviously dying to talk to her. She didn't say much when Towers rang about your promotion. Already know did she?'

Dimitri's teasing is accompanied by a slight nudge of the elbow and I nod at each of them before deciding with some trepidation to approach Ruth's desk. This is going to be an awkward conversation I know. Through our limited conversation of the last few weeks, I had communicated to her my knowledge of Towers' wish to make me the new DG, as well as my complete lack of desire to accept the post. In times gone by, my lack of interest in the post would have been so that I could stay near to Ruth in order to keep an eye on her, keep her safe, gaze at her magnificent beauty and the like. These days, I'm afraid to say my desire to stay on the grid is based more upon my deepest fear that if I'm gone too long she'll realise she doesn't really miss me and leave me.

She hears me approach and puts down her pen slowly. Her face is unreadable but I know she's going to be mad at me.

'Seems I was the last one to know about your _big_ promotion Harry. Keeping secrets as well now are we?'

I don't know how to talk to her when it's like this. Everything I say seems to make matters worse and saying nothing at all is akin to a death sentence.

'Towers is being premature. I haven't accepted the post. I merely told him I'd think about it. The answer's going to be no though. It always will be. I'm not a politician, you know that Ruth.'

I try to draw some of the old Ruth out by reminding her of that time so many years ago when she prepared me for the DG interview job, only for me to be pipped at the post by a politician. It doesn't work though, and she merely frowns and looks down at the file on her desk.

'Is that the only reason you're not accepting?'

Her question is transparent and I can see right through it. She wants me to reassure her that I'm turning the job offer down because I want to stay close to her, but the words just don't seem to want to come out. I try my hardest, but the sentence I want to say and the sentence that actually comes out of my mouth are two completely different ideas altogether.

'Well you know, the coffee machine here is better than at Whitehall.'

Stupid, stupid man.

She sighs and goes back to her paperwork. I take it as my cue to leave and make my way into my office for a bit of privacy. It's too early for whiskey but I don't care and pour myself a hefty serving. My blinds are closed, as they always are these days, and I watch Ruth through the tiny gaps. She seems deep in thought, no doubt analysing every word of our conversation looking for clues as to what went wrong between us. I've done the same thing myself, but I'm no match for her analytical skills so if she can't put her finger on the problem, then I'm doomed.

I watch as she starts to tidy away her things and I presume she's going to leave without me. This won't cause suspicion among the others as I've a reputation for staying late. Time was, Ruth would stay late with me too but these days I think she's glad of the time by herself at home. When she starts to put her coat on and head towards the grid I flip the blinds back and slump into my chair. Since I assumed she was leaving it's somewhat of a surprise when Ruth enters my office a few seconds later. I foolishly get my hopes up when she enters without knocking, like the Ruth of old. Then I see the look on her face and the shining tears ready to be shed from the corners of her eyes and I know something's seriously wrong.

'Ruth, what is it?'

I try to take her by the arm and guide her towards the sofa but she resists and flinches away from my touch. I'm wracking my brain, trying to think of what could have possibly upset her in the last few minutes. We didn't really argue as such and she seemed fine when I left her at her desk so nothing immediate springs to mind.

'I'm tired Harry.' She says.

'Well take a few days off. You've certainly earned it. I'll approve the holiday time for you.'

I'm already planning in my head the bribe I'll put to Towers. I'll take the DG job if you let me and Ruth take a few weeks off to reconnect. This is my chance to make things right between us, I'm sure.

'No, I don't mean that Harry.'

Maybe not. Ruth's never been a simple or easy to read woman, but right now she's more complicated than I've ever seen her. That is, until she utters her next sentences and everything becomes suddenly clear.

'I mean, I'm tired of us. Of this. Of not talking. Of living separate lives. I...I want a divorce Harry. I'm sorry.'


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, I'm chuffed with the response to the first chapter. I knew a few of you might not be too happy with the idea of them splitting up, but I do like to shock and come up with the unexpected! As most of you guessed/requested, each chapter will be from a different person's point of view. Mostly Harry and Ruth but sometimes somebody different if the story calls for it. I will do my absolute best to make it happier, as nobody likes to see Harry and Ruth apart do they?**

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><p><strong>Ruth<strong>

I almost can't believe my ears when Erin tells me Harry's accepted the DG position. Of course, she assumes I already know, what with being married to him.

'I suppose this is old news for you, but I hear congratulations are in order for Harry's promotion.' She had said.

I think I covered up my surprise well enough for her not to notice, since the next time I look up from my computer she's brandishing a bottle of champagne.

Harry and myself have been having problems for a couple of months now, but I never thought he would keep something as important as a promotion from me. Especially one that takes him away from me in our work environment. I already feel like I'm losing him and this is surely going to speed up that process. He's going to have some young blonde secretary fawning over him day and night and she's going to wear short skirts and be prettier than me and he's going to...no. I can't think like that. No matter how bad it gets between us I know he would never cheat on me. But we barely talk, we hardly ever kiss and I can't even remember the last time we had sex or said the L word. I'm running out of ideas to be honest, and it's not in my nature to give up but what kind of life is this? If only he could show me that he still cares.

I watch as he talks with Erin, Dimitri, Calum and Tariq near the pods. He looks uncomfortable and his eyes keep straying towards me. He's probably coming up with a good excuse as to why he's taken a promotion he swore to me he didn't want. I put down my pen as he approaches me. He looks almost scared. How have we ended up like this? I was so sure when I agreed to marry him that we could put everything behind us and be happy.

'Seems I was the last one to know about your _big_ promotion Harry. Keeping secrets as well now are we?'

The words are out of my mouth before I even realise what I'm saying and I wish I could take them back immediately. I didn't intend to begin the conversation in such a hostile manner but I have to admit, it does hurt when you're the last person to find out about your husband's new job.

'Towers is being premature. I haven't accepted the post. I merely told him I'd think about it. The answer's going to be no though. It always will be. I'm not a politician, you know that Ruth.'

Memories of the time when I prepared him for the DG interview so many years ago flash before my eyes. Whether he did it intentionally or not, he's reminded me of a better time, a happier time for us. That was the beginning for me, the moment when I realised I was falling in love with him. Before faked suicides and exiles and kidnappings and murdered boyfriends. A time when everything was simpler. Oh how I wish I could go back to that. I realise then that this is my chance to see if he does really still care about me.

'Is that the only reason you're not accepting?'

Our whole relationship hinges on his answer to this question. If he admits he doesn't want to be away from me then maybe we've got a chance. We can work things out and be happy again.

'Well you know, the coffee machine here is better than at Whitehall.'

His answer feels like a knife in the heart. So he really doesn't love me anymore. I look down at my paperwork so that he can't see the tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. People warned me when we first got together. They told me all about his history and his record with women. I already knew, of course, having been through his file many a time, and I always told them that he was different now. A changed man. It seems I may have been mistaken. I hear him walk away from me without saying anything else and I watch as he enters his office. The blinds are shut, as they always are these days, so I can't see him any longer but I don't need to see him to know he's currently pouring himself a large glass of whiskey.

I make a decision there and then that's going to change my life from this moment forward. Whether it's for the good or the bad I have no idea, but I know we cannot simply go on like this, existing together as two completely separate entities. I grab my coat and bag and make my way towards his office. This is going to leave me as an emotional wreck and I want to be able to make a quick escape afterwards.

When I enter his office and see him sitting there looking so...defeated I almost change my mind but I know what I'm about to do is for the best. He must be able to tell I'm upset because he tries to usher me over to his sofa.

'Ruth, what is it?'

I flinch away from his touch and immediately feel guilty at the hurt look that flashes across his features.

'I'm tired Harry.'

'Well take a few days off. You've certainly earned it. I'll approve the holiday time for you.'

I knew he would misunderstand what I'm trying to say and I can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he begins to plan a holiday for us. For a second I'm tempted to go along with it. Perhaps an extended holiday is all we need after all? Then I realise that no, it isn't. A holiday will only paper over the cracks. We might be happy while we're away but as soon as we come back we'll slip into our same routine again. No, this needs to be done this way, no matter how much it's going to hurt.

'No, I don't mean that Harry.'

I can see the confusion in his eyes at my words and I know what I have to say now. It takes a few minutes for the ability to say the next few sentences to actually come to me. After all, this is something I never thought in all my life I would ever say.

'I mean, I'm tired of us. Of this. Of not talking. Of living separate lives. I...I want a divorce Harry. I'm sorry.'


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Special mention for this chapter goes to Mtn Cousin, who must be psychic in mentioning Malcolm in their review for chapter 2, since that is exactly what I had planned for this chapter! And for those of you who are interested, I am still working on the next chapter of Saving the Country, I've just hit a spot of writer's block but I will try to get it up in the next couple of days.**

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><p><strong>Malcolm<strong>

I'm sat in my quiet living room enjoying a book when the doorbell sounds unexpectedly. Immediately I'm suspicious. I'm not expecting any visitors so on my way to the door I grab the tazer from the bookcase and look through the peephole warily. When I see who's on the other side of the door I sigh and open it quickly. There, stood before me in the pouring rain is somebody I never thought I would see again, Ruth Evershed.

'Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Come on in.'

She walks by me without a word and seats herself on my sofa. Her hair is wet through from the rain and her mascara is streaming down her face. I fetch her a towel from the bathroom and wait patiently for her to say something. When she doesn't speak I touch her arm in a show of support and the floodgates open. She's crying her eyes out and I've never been good with crying women so I put my arm around her shoulders and wait for her to calm down a little.

When her tears have subsided somewhat and she's simply sniffling and fiddling with the towel I gave her, I take a wild stab in the dark at what's got her in such a mess.

'Is it...Harry?' I ask her.

This causes her tears to start again and I assume that it's a yes in answer to my question.

'H-He's...'

Fear tightens across my chest as I jump to conclusions about what she's trying to tell me.

'Oh god...he's not...I mean, he's not dead?'

She seems to pull herself together then and looks me square in the eye, anger written all over her face.

'Oh no, it's much worse than that. He's a stubborn _bastard_ Malcolm. I-I asked him for a divorce. I didn't know what else to do.'

I watched with barely disguised shock as Ruth again fiddles with the towel in her lap.

'You're married?' I ask, then add somewhat stupidly. ' To Harry?'

This seems to jog something in her memory and she suddenly realises we haven't spoken in almost two years.

'Oh god Malcolm, I'm so sorry! I suppose I should tell you what's happened since you retired. I don't know where to begin.'

I take her hand gently and squeeze encouragingly.

'Begin at the beginning.'

And so she tells me everything that's happened between her and Harry since I retired from the service. I'm gobsmacked to say the least. I was convinced when I left that the pair of them would continue to dance around each other for evermore. But it seems that it only took a matter of weeks after my absence for them to get their act together. I'm happy for them in the beginning, but then Ruth begins to tell me about their marriage falling apart, and when she gets to the events of earlier today I'm devastated for the pair of them. Her tears have started up again and I grab a box of tissues from the dining room table and hand them to her.

'Ruth, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. But if you still love him why have you asked him for a divorce? You know Harry's a stubborn old fool, he'll take everything you say quite literally. He's probably got the papers in his office already.'

She's looking at the ground now, and I'm reminded of the old Ruth, who came to the grid so many years ago, lacking confidence and self respect.

'I didn't know what else to do. I thought...I suppose I thought it might shock him into reaching out to me.'

I take her hand and force her to look at me. I know she's not going to like what I'm about to say but she needs to hear it anyway.

'Ruth...marriages are a two way street. If there's a problem, you need to work on it too. You can't just throw a divorce at him and expect him to fight for you. You have to fight for him too.'

I know she's heard what I said but she doesn't outwardly show any signs of taking it in.

'Go home at least. Running isn't the right option here. I promise you, things will sort themselves out in the end.'

She looks at me then and I can see the hope in her eyes. I pray that I'm not wrong. After all, this is Harry and Ruth. I watched them deny their feelings for each other for years. I've never known two people more in love. If they can't figure things out, well there's no hope for the rest of us.

'You're right Malcolm. Thank you. I knew I could rely on you to talk some sense.'

She embraces me and I'm mildly surprised, but my arms find their way around her anyway. When she pulls away I see her out and she slips a small piece of paper with a phone number written on it into my hand.

'I know we're not supposed to...but keep in touch.'

I take the piece of paper from her and nod. Then she does something that surprises me even more than the hug. She leans up and kisses me on the cheek.

'Thank you Malcolm.'

She's down the path and into her car before I have a chance to react so I close the door and go back to my book with a smile on my face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ruth**

I drive home as slowly as I possibly can, taking all sorts of different routes to think over my conversation with Malcolm. He's right, I know he is. And the reason I went to him was because I knew I could rely on him to give me some impartial advice. However, taking his advice and acting on it is easier said than done.

I knew even before he told me that it was stupid to ask Harry for a divorce just to spur him into action. What was I thinking? I don't want to divorce Harry, I love him. But that comment about the coffee...God I could have throttled him right there and then. It tipped me over the edge. I can only hope he hasn't taken my words quite literally and already contacted a lawyer.

When I finally pull up in the drive way it's late at night but the light is on in the living room and I'm glad that he's still up. I want to talk to him about this sooner rather than later and I suppose now's as good a time as any. I let myself in and drop my bag and coat by the door, calling Harry's name as I do, but there's no response. I realise why when I walk into the living room and he's slumped on the sofa unconscious, with an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside him. I don't see a glass anywhere and my heart sinks when I realise he must have been drinking straight from the bottle. I know my husband well enough to know that he only forgoes the use of a glass when something's really bothering him.

Oddly enough, this thought comforts me somewhat. This means my asking for a divorce has upset him, and he does still care about me. Maybe there's hope for us yet. I crouch down beside him and nudge his arm gently.

'Harry, wake up.'

He groans and tries to swat my hand away but I don't give up that easily. Although I've given up on having our chat tonight with him in this state, I don't want to leave him on the sofa all night. He's been there for the last week and I've noticed him rubbing his neck and taking painkillers on the grid. When he still doesn't stir I nudge him again and raise my voice.

'Harry, red flash.'

His eyes open immediately and he stands rather uncertainly. He fumbles around on the table, presumably looking for his phone so I take his hand and force him to look at me.

'Harry, there's no red flash. I just wanted to wake you up.'

I can see the confusion in his eyes through the drunken haze and to my disappointment he then pulls his hand away from mine.

'I suppose you've just come to fetch some things? Where are you staying? Don't worry...I'm not going to come chasing after you.'

My heart sinks when he says this. That's exactly what I want him to do but he just doesn't get it. I stand and turn away from him, knowing this could easily turn into an argument if we continue it while he's drunk.

'Why, Ruth? Why are you doing this to me?'

I feel the tears prickling the corner of my eyes and there's no way I can turn and answer him like this. I think about what Malcolm said to me earlier in the evening. I didn't want to have this conversation with him drunk, but it looks like I don't have a choice, and one of us has got to make the first move I suppose.

'I don't want a divorce Harry.'

I say it so quietly I'm not even sure he's heard me with my back still facing him and the amount of alcohol he's consumed. But then I hear a rustling sound and I can tell by the shivers running down my back that he's stood right behind me. Finding bravery I didn't even know I had, I turn to face him and look into his eyes. He looks so utterly broken hearted that I have to use all of my willpower not to pull him into my arms right there and then.

'Why did you ask for one then?'

His voice sounds incredibly hurt and I feel immensely guilty at having put him through this. Why on Earth did I ever think this was a good idea?

'I...it's stupid. Forget it.'

He seems to have sobered up quite a bit now, something to do with the seriousness of the conversation I suppose. His fingers reach for my cheek and the touch is electric.

'If it made you feel like leaving me was your only option, then it's not stupid Ruth. I may be a lot of things but I'm not blind, I can see we've drifted apart these last few months. I want to fix it, I...I just don't know how.'

His fingers have found their way into my hair and I know that no matter what is said during the rest of the conversation, we'll sleep in the same bed tonight. His presence is so intoxicating to me and I'd almost forgotten what this could feel like. I'm not too naive to think that having sex with him for the first time in weeks will solve all of our problems, but it would go some of the way towards us reconnecting again. I can see he's still waiting for an answer whilst playing with my hair so I force my mind out of the gutter and focus on my answer to his question.

'I suppose...I don't really feel wanted anymore. We never do anything outside of work. We gradually stopped talking about things. And the longer it went on the harder it was to say something to you about it.'

He takes a step closer to me and I wonder if he knows the effect he still has on me. My knees are shaking underneath my skirt and he must be able to feel the goose bumps on my skin.

'And what made you change your mind?'

I take a breath and wonder if I should tell the truth here. Disregarding the fact that it was a blatant violation of work conduct in going to see Malcolm, I'm not sure how Harry would react if he knew I'd been talking about our marriage with somebody else. I'm about to come up with a brilliant lie when a sudden realisation comes to me. This is where all of our problems started. Harry had asked me just before we married if I'd put George's death behind me, and I had lied and said no. Had I subconsciously been pushing Harry further and further away since then without even knowing it? It was in the past now, I rarely thought of George, if ever, but at the time...was this all my fault? I resolved right then to always tell Harry the truth no matter what it was about.

'I went to see Malcolm. He delivered a few home truths and made me see sense.'

Harry smiles then and I realise with shame it's the first time he's genuinely smiled at me for a long time.

'Did he now? I'll have to remember to thank him next time I see him.'

The silence isn't as uncomfortable as it used to be as we stand and stare into each other's eyes. I can tell he wants to kiss me but isn't sure whether I would appreciate it so I make the first move and peck him gently on the lips.

'I'm going to bed. Early start in the morning.'

He nods and turns back towards the sofa. I wonder for a moment what he's doing before realising that he's still expecting to sleep downstairs.

'Harry...I know we've still got a lot to talk about and things aren't just magically alright all of a sudden, but...will you sleep upstairs again?'

There's a twinkle in his eye that I haven't seen for a long time and as he follows me up the stairs I can't help but feel that we're going to be OK.


	5. Chapter 5

**Harry**

I wake up in the morning with a massive hangover, but I don't mind, because for the first time in a week I've woken up beside Ruth. She looks peaceful while she's sleeping and I really don't want to disturb her but I've an urgent need to visit the men's room and my arm is wrapped tightly around her body. I should probably remove it before she wakes up anyway. Although we both acknowledged last night that we want to fix our marriage, and then participated in some drunken (on my part anyway) sex, I'm not sure if she'll be comfortable yet waking up in such an intimate position. This decision is made for me however when I look back down at her and she's awake, watching me closely.

'You look like you're deep in thought. Care to share?'

'I was just thinking, how nice this is. Waking up like this.'

It's not a complete lie, I was thinking about that too. I decide to remove my arm from her body in case I'm making her uncomfortable, but the second I move, she tugs on my hand and pulls me even closer to her.

'It is nice. I'd forgotten just how nice it could be.'

She's looking at me and biting her lip, a sure sign she wants to say something but is too nervous to spit it out, and I'm suddenly panicking that she's changed her mind and does still want a divorce.

'What is it Ruth?'

I've got everything mentally crossed that the next words out of her mouth aren't something along the lines of 'get out of my bed', and thankfully they aren't. However, they are almost as bad.

'I was thinking...do you think we could maybe go and see um...Debra Langham?'

I refrain from airing my first thought (something like 'Why would we want to go and see that witch?') and actually take a moment to look at Ruth before I answer. This isn't something I've done in the past and it's difficult to think before I say the first thing on my mind, but if we're to make this marriage work we must both make changes. She looks worried and scared, like I'm going to get angry at her for suggesting it. I suppose I can't blame her. The old Harry would have done.

'You mean, because we'd be able to talk freely with her rather than a marriage counsellor?'

She looks so relieved when my response shows genuine interest in the idea. I'm gobsmacked when she actually leans forwards and pecks me on the lips. Perhaps I should have changed into 'New Harry' a long time ago.

'I'll book us in for today. This afternoon?'

I nod and realise that I still haven't made it to the bathroom, something which is becoming a rather pressing need. When I try to leave the bed she groans and puls me back down again. It's only when I explain to her where I'm going that she lets me go. I can't help but think that, if only I can survive a meeting with Debra Langham, everything's going to be alright.

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><p><strong>AN: It's short, but the idea came to me late tonight and I wanted to get it down before I forgot it. Plus, I kind of wanted the meeting with Debra Langham to have its own chapter. Hope you liked!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: As was so correctly pointed out to me by theoofoof in reviewing the previous chapter, Debra Langham was actually the HR expert, not an MI5 therapist. Rather than going back to edit the chapter, I've just had her change jobs, as I explain part way through this chapter. :) Also, I'm no psychologist or therapist so please bear that in mind when reading this! Hope you like.**

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><p><strong>Debra Langham<strong>

It was quite a shock when I received a phone call from Ruth Pearce this morning asking if I could see her and her husband today. They're the golden couple of MI5 and I never would have expected them to have any problems in their relationship. Then again, maybe I'm jumping to conclusions. Maybe there's something else wrong. Perhaps they can't conceive, or have lost a family member. I'd much prefer it if they are having problems. I need something juicy to get my claws into, and picking over the carcass of that man's marriage will do just fine.

I thought when I moved from human resources into therapy that he would no longer make my life a living hell, but oh no. Every turn I make, he's there throwing a spanner in the works. Whether it's annual check-ups or anonymous complaints. You name it, he's always there on the grid thwarting my every attempt to do my job. Yes, this will provide the perfect ammunition for me to get back at him.

When the door opens and they enter, I'm slightly disappointed to see their hands clasped tightly together. Maybe my prayers haven't been answered after all. But on closer inspection I see that Ruth is almost pulling Harry along and his reluctance to see me for this meeting becomes clear. He's only here because Ruth has asked him to come. That means they _are_ having problems.

'Take a seat why don't you. And start at the beginning.'

The pair of them sit and stare at each other and I swear Harry almost flinches when I speak. Neither say anything for quite some time and I sigh as I place my pen down on my desk.

'As much as I'd love to sit and stare at the two of you in silence for the next hour, I do have more pressing needs to attend to, so if one of you wouldn't mind starting at the beginning?'

Harry's hands are gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles have gone white and I take some pleasure from the amount of discomfort my presence is causing him. Ruth looks like she's about to burst into tears and I've all but given up on either of them saying a word when he finally speaks.

'I...I mean we...well our marriage, it hasn't been the best of late and we wanted some help in that area. If you could.'

I'm surprised that he's the first to speak. I imagined he would spend the entire session in silence glaring at me whilst Ruth regaled me with all the details of their failed marriage. Perhaps it is true that behind every man there's a good woman.

'My assistance is certainly available to those who allow me to help them Mr Pearce.'

I can tell this sentence winds him up even more and I have to refrain from smirking at him. He knows I'm referring to the multitude of times he's turned me away from the grid, claiming some disaster was afoot that would mean I couldn't do my job. I'm having a lot of fun with him here, and I'm sure that if Ruth were not present, he'd have stormed out by now.

'W-we've grown apart. We don't seem to talk anymore. It's like we live two separate lives.'

Ruth's admission is unexpected and I can tell it's taken her the entire time she's been in my office to build up the courage to say it. I know from past experience she's an extremely private person so airing her dirty laundry like this can't be easy for her. I feel a flash of sympathy for her and decide to ease up on Harry a little. After all, if this woman is such a sound judge of character, he can't be as bad as I think he is. I make some notes on my pad before preparing to deliver the line that usually has most couples in therapy running for the exit.

'So...how often do you have sex?'

I'm fairly certain that were my chairs not made of solid oak, they would have crumbled under the pressure of Harry's hands by now. And Ruth is colouring a nice shade of red. Neither looks prepared to answer the question.

'It's a simple enough question. Do you want my help or not?'

Ruth is opening and closing her mouth like a fish, all the while getting redder and redder. She looks like she's just about to attempt to answer the question when Harry beats her to it.

'Not for three months. Until um...well until last night that is.'

Even he blushes slightly at that revelation and inside I'm doing a little dance of joy. My work here is already half done.

'And before the three months? How often then?'

I can tell I've pushed it too far when Harry's hands finally release the poor arms of my chair and he leans forward over my desk slightly.

'What does this have to do with...anything?'

He gesticulates between himself and Ruth and I have to sigh at his typical man-like behaviour.

'Mr Pearce, if you could just answer the question please.'

'Pretty much every day.'

I can't stop my mouth from hanging open in shock when Ruth speaks up. I know the history between these two. How long it took them to get together. Yet I never imagined they would be at it like rabbits.

'Lovely. And Ruth, what made you fall in love with Harry?'

I'm glad when she doesn't even pause to think about her answer. That's a sign that she still holds those reasons close to her heart.

'Oh he's honourable, and loyal. He'll do anything for his team, even lay down his life. He's handsome and a uh...a good lover. And I know that he loves me more than he could ever say.'

I motion towards Harry to indicate he should answer the same question but he doesn't notice my action. He's too busy staring at Ruth with what can only be described as pure adoration. I'm quite satisfied that my work is now 75% done.

'Harry? What made you fall in love with Ruth?'

'She's the most intelligent, kind, caring, beautiful woman I've ever met.'

Operation complete. I make a few more notes on my pad and wonder briefly why these two even felt the need to come and see me. I think banging their heads together would have been an equally effective treatment.

'Wonderful. Now, here's what I want you to do. Every week, put aside some time for just the two of you. Go out, do something, paint the town red. But make sure it's something new each week and always a different time or place. Make it spontaneous and don't get stuck in a routine. And absolutely NO talking about work on these _dates._ Got it?'

The pair of them nod but they aren't paying the least bit of attention to me, they're both too busy gazing into each other's eyes. I'm getting slightly sick of the sight of them so I order them out of my office and this time when they leave they aren't walking hand in hand, Harry's arm is wrapped tightly around Ruth's waist.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I've decided to end this fic here. I hope it's a satisfactory ending for you all. Many thanks to everybody who left a review, they do encourage me to keep going. If anybody has any requests/suggestions/prompts, please feel free to message me, as I'm always up for a challenge and have found it difficult coming up with new ideas recently.**

**...**

**Ruth**

It's been a long hard day at work and I'm looking forward to curling up on the sofa with my book and a bottle of red wine. We thwarted yet another terrorist attack by the skin of our teeth, but Harry and myself argued over how best to pursue our leads. He had wanted to trust an inside double agent, but I was sure he was a triple agent. Harry trusted my judgement, eventually, but not without a heated argument in his office for all to see.

I had thought we were making progress after going to see Debra Langham a few weeks ago. We had done as she asked and gone out on a few spontaneous 'dates', which had worked out very well and injected a spark back into our marriage. This is our first hiccup since then and I was hoping to talk to Harry about it but he had disappeared off the grid before I had finished my paperwork.

I unlock our front door and notice immediately that Harry's coat and wallet are not where he usually leaves them, meaning he's not at home. This makes my heart sink. He's obviously chosen the easy route of running away from me instead of talking through our argument. Clearly it's not as easy for him to change as I thought.

I dump my things in the hall and don't even bother getting changed as I grab the wine from the kitchen and slouch onto the sofa. When I open my book I'm surprised to see a small slip of paper fall from between the pages where my bookmark should have been. I'm intrigued as I read the words written in Harry's neat handwriting.

_Go to the bedroom._

I do as his note asks, marvelling out how he knew I would reach for my book before going to any other room. When I push the bedroom door open I gasp at the sight on the bed. There's a huge bouquet of flowers with a card attached. It only has one word written on it. _Sorry._ I smile at that and move to inspect the other items laid on the bed. The first box contains the most beautiful cocktail dress I've ever seen. It's a deep midnight blue in colour and is cut in just the right places to make it elegant rather than showy.

Placing it back down gently on the bed, I open the remaining smaller box and my hands begin to shake at what I find in there. It's a wonderful diamond necklace, and I briefly wonder how on earth Harry managed to afford something like this. There's another handwritten note on the bed and I read it through quickly.

_Change into these things._

I waste no time debating with myself over whether or not to follow Harry's orders. I'm just applying the finishing touches to my make-up when the doorbell rings. Just my luck. We rarely have visitors yet somebody's decided to come round just as I'm about to go out. I go to answer the door, ready to give both barrels to whoever is on the other side but the words catch in my throat when I come face to face with a smartly dressed limousine driver, his vehicle parked behind him on our drive.

'Are you ready Miss?'

I can't find it in myself to string together an intelligent sentence so I simply nod and follow this stranger to his car after locking the house up behind me. He holds open the rear door for me and I'm about to start questioning him when I see Harry waiting in the back of the limo for me, a large smile on his face. I quickly get in beside him.

'Harry, what is all this for?'

He kisses me gently on the cheek and pours me a glass of champagne. I sip it slowly as I wait for his explanation.

'This...is both spontaneous and, I hope, romantic. And...I had some making up to do after today. Am I forgiven?'

His cheeky grin and the twinkle in his eye lets me know that he knows he's already forgiven and I lean forward to kiss him passionately.

'Where are we going?'

I'm breathless from the kiss and he chuckles at the effect he has on me. Not that I'm complaining. It was only a few weeks ago I was asking him for a divorce, and now we're in a limousine on the way to God knows where and all I can think about is getting him into bed.

'Have a look for yourself...we're here.'

He helps me out of the limo and the first thing I see is Thames House. For one crazy moment I wonder if he's taking me to work but then he takes my hand and leads me down the side of the riverbank. We walk slowly, hand in hand in comfortable silence, and I still have no idea where we're going. Eventually we come to a stop underneath the London Eye and Harry spreads his arms wide to indicate we've reached our destination.

'Harry...it's the London Eye.'

I eye the structure suspiciously, still not sure what Harry's got planned. On more than one occasion we've foiled terrorist plots to blow up this landmark so I know its workings intimately. It's only when I look past a still grinning Harry that I realise what his intentions are.

'Oh, Harry...I don't know what to say.'

One of the carriages has been transformed into a private candlelit dinner area, complete with waiter ready to serve us food. Harry takes my hand and leads me into the carriage, and we wait until we're hoisted up to the top before starting to eat.

'How on Earth did you manage to pull this off?'

He grins at me then, and takes my hand in his.

'It turns out, when you prevent terrorists from blowing this thing up, it gives you something to work with when attempting to bribe the Home Secretary.'

I smile at him, loving how thoughtful he's been this evening. He really is a changed man these last few weeks, and I hope he thinks the same about me. Then I realise he's just let slip something he shouldn't have done in front of our waiter. He seems to read my thoughts though, as he squeezes my hand and leans close to whisper in my ear.

'Don't worry, I've had him sign the Official Secrets Act.'

We finish our meals and are returned safely to ground level, where Harry again takes my hand and leads me to the riverbank once more. We watch the water lapping quietly at our feet in the night, the lights of the city reflecting beautifully off its surface. I watched this very same image from the roof of Thames House on many a night in the past, but it's even more beautiful close up. Harry's got his arms wrapped tightly around me from behind and I look down when I feel him place something into my hands. It's a plain unaddressed envelope and I open it curiously, pulling out two pieces of typed paper.

'Harry...this is...'

I turn to face him, unable to finish my sentence from the shock of what I've just read.

'I know...our resignations. I've been thinking a lot lately Ruth. And I so very nearly lost you. I don't want to waste time on a job I no longer have the same hunger for. I'm ready to retire. I'm hoping that you are too, and we can move away somewhere and spend the rest of our lives doing some decent people watching without a surveillance van.'

I'm still too shocked to say anything. I did not see this coming at all.

'If you want to, that is.' Harry adds somewhat unnecessarily to fill the silence.

Eventually I find my voice as I throw my arms around him, kissing every part of skin I can find.

'Of course I will Harry. I love you so much. Let's do it, let's move away to the countryside.'

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me with such love that I have to cling onto his jacket to stop myself from slumping to the ground. And then I know. I know we're going to be alright.

**The End**


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